


so so very lucky

by hawrthiacoopri



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: M/M, anyway enjoy, he is too beautiful, i only wrote this to describe timothee chalamet bc i have a crush and its a problem, ive fallen in love with this book and movie theyre so gorgeous, like actually art, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 11:46:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13166274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawrthiacoopri/pseuds/hawrthiacoopri
Summary: “your legs look like a girl’s in those shorts.”





	so so very lucky

**Author's Note:**

> im aware this is all lowercase but i feel writing cmbyn requires a certain writig style and all lowercase is that style.

“your legs look like a girl’s in those shorts.” 

olivers voice broke through the silence between the two men, and elio looked up from the mirror he was examining himself in. 

“do they?” 

olivers eyes flicked up again, just for a second, to give elio’s body another once-over. “indeed. almost like marzia’s.”

“is that a bad thing?” elio asked curiously, walking to the bed and sitting on the side of it, the sunlight filtering through his hazel eyes and lighting them up like a stained-glass painting. “should i change?” 

“elio,” oliver said somberly, “if you change out of those shorts, i am officially never coming back to this house, because i will be so distraught that i can’t bear to be here.” 

“so, i’ll take that as a sign its a good thing.” 

“yes, it’s a good thing,” oliver said drily. “it’s a wonderful thing. i know plenty of people who would love to have your legs.” 

elio simply smiled. he was a humble boy, never one to sing his own praises or brag, and the compliment made him feel warm, though he’d heard plenty like it. people were constantly complimenting and commenting, but he heard almost none of it. in one ear and out the other. 

but from oliver, any praise was accepted. 

maybe it was the fact that elio was now subconsciously wired to want oliver’s approval because of his desperation for acknowledgment in that first summer- maybe it was the fact the fact that oliver was the most beautiful man elio’d ever laid eyes on and he was flattered by the attention. either way, elio accepted any and all of it and lapped it up like mother’s milk at times. 

and oliver was happy to give it. after all, how could he not? elio was gorgeous. ethereal, even. his brown head of sleepy, drowsy curls matched his brown eyes and his red, pouty lips and olive skin. his skin was creamy and flawless with a few moles dotting it, on his face and the insides of his thighs and his hip. he was willowy and slight, his waist high and slim and perfect, and oliver swore he could wrap his hands around the boy’s waist and his thumbs would meet eachother. his chest was so delicate, his ribs rippling on it, his stomach concave- everything about elio was almost elvin, so small and defined and flitting. 

but the best part of it all was his legs. god, elio’s legs- they were so long and slender, the muscles toned and graceful and pretty enough that oliver often felt the strange and animalistic urge to rub his face to them before sliding it between them. elio’s legs also lead the way towards his tight, pretty ass, which oliver greatly appreciated, but the legs themselves were enough, especially in the very... european style short-shorts elio was wearing. they hardly left anything to the imagination, showing his pretty calves and his even prettier thighs, stopping basically just short of elio’s butt, maybe allowing an inch of fabric below it. 

oliver wished that inch was gone, along with all the other inches. 

“how many of these people are women?” elio asked, breaking through oliver’s reverie and cocking one thick eyebrow. 

the blond man shrugged, stretching as he sat up and mumbling sarcastically, “wouldn’t you like to know?” before flopping his head into elio’s lap. elio immediately started carding his spidery fingers through his hair, twirling it between his fingers absently and fingering the line of oliver’s jaw. oliver turned his head to press a kiss onto elio’s knee, smiling into it as elio stiffened at the contact before sitting up. “just checking to make sure you didn’t steal these from marzia,” he teased, and elio crinkled his nose and began his routine of pummeling oliver harmlessly in the chest at the taunt. 

“i didn’t, stupid,” elio said, but his voice was muffled against oliver’s chest as they fell backwards. “they’re just my legs.” 

“believe me, i am very familiar with them,” oliver responded amusedly. “we’re close.” 

elio took a second to consider it, and once he did he pushed oliver off and went to the mirror again. 

he gazed for a moment, and oliver wondered what he was seeing. “fuck it,” he announced. “i’m just gonna change. you’ve convinced me you can’t be responsible.” 

oliver watched in mixed remorse and delight as elio slid the shorts off and changed into his normal jean shorts. “responsible with what, exactly?” 

“responsible with not being rude,” elio threw behind him, heading out the door, “and not being ridiculous. now come on, let’s go swimming.” 

oliver caught up with the shorter boy quickly, and linked their pinkies. “but you already knew i couldn’t be responsible with that. but neither can you, elio, so that isn’t exactly fair. what if we compromise, and you just don’t wear shorts at all?” 

elio snorted and pushed oliver off. 

“you’re so ridiculous,” he repeated. 

“but you love me.” 

“but i love you,” elio agreed, and put his head on oliver’s shoulder. “if you weren’t ridiculous, it wouldn’t be you. just like how if you knew how to break an soft-boiled egg, it wouldn’t be you.” 

“and,” oliver said mischievously, “how if you had regular legs, it wouldn’t be you?” 

elio looked ready to start tussling again, but he just flashed oliver a smile. “if i had a regular anything it wouldn’t be me.” 

“that’s pretty cocky, prettyboy,” oliver chastised. “you’re lucky i like that.” 

the brunet simply pressed one of his sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to the other man’s waiting lips. 

“i know that i am. so very, very lucky, my oliver...”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr- @bisexualelioperlman  
> twitter- @itshebrew4peace  
> instagram- @shalom.rose


End file.
